Now 12 girls are gone. That means 15 are left, but 6 of them have problem skin, so we know they’re out. And no girl who wears little flowers on top her head gets anywhere in life, so the clock is ticking on Hippie Chick. And when has anyone ever said, “I’m rooting for the opera singer!”

Now I’ll quickly run down the two one-on-one dates for you. Even though there wasn’t really anything new. Dead family members. Walls that won’t come down. Grandmas are the wisest. Someone misses their little boy. Someone misses their little dog. Cue the lights on a guy with a guitar singing about how his heart has been colored in with pastels.

So what exactly did we learn about this season’s love-chasers tonight? Nothing much. The hour was mostly comprised of assorted women throwing their arms in the air and squealing “Juan Pablo!” in that same embarrassing way my grandma squeals when she gets a BINGO.

Gary

That's when I started this blog. My goals were to record my progress, and to meet other people who like spinning a knife around in the kitchen.

You can read that very first post from 2009 right here. The photo of the chicken in the pan is still a favorite.

I also like to paint, the results of which you'll also see here.

I read, travel, paddle through life with my significant other, and anxiously await the need next expressed by MysteryCat. I'll need to take care of that immediately.

I used to drink alcohol. I don't anymore, but the drinks I loved when I did, and how to make them, are here. My favorite drink was a vodka martini, and I made a mean one. I "brain grenaded" many friends at dinner parties.